


Drinking Habits

by pixelfigs



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-20 03:03:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8233870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pixelfigs/pseuds/pixelfigs
Summary: What happens when a cowboy gets drunk? Shenanigans.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A silly little one shot to get me back in the swing of writing. Super not canon and just meant to be fluffy. Any suggestions for future stories would be awesome as I'll probably start on that soon!

It was a bad day. Some days just ended up that way. There’d been a couple of close calls with D.Va and Mercy on the mission that brought back too many painful memories of the past. McCree wasn’t one to dwell on lingering griefs and mournings, but in his line of work it was not uncommon for those memories to find their way to the front of his mind. So on bad days, he went to the bar.  


There wasn’t much to the dark hole in the wall where he sipped his whiskey. A few chairs pushed out to the side of the room circling the pool table in the center, the white cue ball cracked from the many bets won and lost. An old jukebox sang in the corner to the few patrons dispersed around the bar under the dusty dim light.  


The place was a shit hole. The drinks were a max of two ingredients, but it was McCree’s favorite joint because no one bothered a second glance your direction.   


Ice clinked together as the cowboy swirled his thoughts around the bottom of his glass. He remembered how much shit Ana used to give him about the drinking when he was a kid, coming home with a cheap bottle of whiskey that would make him gag now. He didn’t drink for taste then, he drank for defiance. It was a bit of game where Ana would find his stash and rip him a new one, scolding him for having vices at such a young age and he would retort with some now ridiculous claims of him being an adult. The argument would always end with her tossing the bottle and a shot, raining whiskey down on both of them.  


He chuckled softly at the memory of having to wring the alcohol out of his sarape and hat yet still giving off a faint whiskey aroma for days after.  
Worse than the drinking was the smoking. Ana hated the cigarillos that always rested between his lips. If he wasn’t paying attention on missions, she would shoot them right out of his mouth. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d lined up a shot just to have his smoke blow up in his face.  


Jesse was quickly brought back from the bottom of his drink by a hearty slap on the shoulder. He turned to find Genji beaming, with his brother behind him, scanning the bar.  


“I knew we’d find you here,” hummed Genji.  


“Is that so,” said McCree glancing to Hanzo, who glared right back at him.  


“Yeah, you were quiet after the mission and left as soon as possible, so I figured you went for a drink?”  


“And ya’ll came because...?”  


“Well I’m not going to let a friend drink alone!”  


McCree chuckled. He wasn’t all that surprised Genji had come out after him. In the time since he’d joined Overwatch they’d become close friends. On one long night of bar crawls, Genji had given a vague, but bone chilling story of his fallout with his brother. So McCree was more than a bit shocked when Hanzo joined Overwatch. Genji insisted that it was the perfect place for the two to heal their broken relationship. While he was a man who believed in the possibility of redemption, attempted fratricide was a difficult one to bounce back from.  
Though, he couldn’t deny Hanzo being a valuable addition to the team, saving his ass more than a few times. He assumed Genji had dragged him here tonight in an attempt of brotherly bonding. Even after a few months of working together it was clear to everyone their relationship was rocky at best.  


“Well now, I can’t refuse two good drinking buddies, can I?” grinned McCree. He’d spent enough time tonight wallowing in bittersweet memories and self pity and figured he may as well end the night on a good note with Genji and his brother. “When you get a moment bartender, two, what is it ya’ll like to drink again? Sake?”  


Jesse saw Hazo cringe at his pronunciation, although Genji had tried to teach him multiple times he’d never really gotten the hang of the accent. The words never fit right in his mouth and the syllables rolled like rocks off his tongue.  


The bartender filled two large glasses with rice wine and refilled McCree’s glass of whiskey. He watched as Genji took a long sip of his drink and couldn’t help but wonder if the man could even taste it. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if he got drunk off the stuff.  


Hanzo sipped at his drink, stoic and silent as always. McCree knew most of it chalked up to the language barrier but in any other situation Hanzo would still probably pick his words carefully.  


A quick glance from Hanzo told Jesse he’d been staring too long and he shifted his gaze to the pool table. He cleared his throat to break the uncomfortable silence that had grown between the trio.  


“Has your brother introduced you to the traditional American bar pastime known as Pool?”  


Hanzo turned to him and looked him down with his dark eyes, shaking Jesse as a chill ran down his spine.  


“I do not believe he has.”  


“Well then Genji come play a game with me so we can show your brother the ropes,” he said draining his glass and pushing out the thoughts of Hanzo’s eyes.  


The game against Genji didn’t last long as McCree smashed him. The ninja had the strength to succeed at Pool, but lacked the patience to line up his shots. He moved too fast to hit any of the pockets.  


“See there ain’t nothin to it,” grinned McCree as Genji huffed in defeat. “You care to tussle?” He asked holding his Pool stick out to Hanzo. He stared him down so that McCree's toothy grin almost faltered. He was several drinks into his last game and was beginning to feel a familiar buzz. The buzz dragged his gaze drawn to Hanzo’s sharp jawline and imagining how easy it would be to leave a trail of kisses down his neck down to -  


“I said I accept your challenge,” repeated Hanzo breaking McCree’s trance.  


“Right then, you get break,” blushed Jesse as he adjusted his hat as he set up the table.  


The second game didn’t go as easily as the first for the cowboy. His struggle coming from equal parts distraction of watching Hanzo bend over the table to take his shots and McCree focusing more on how he was posed than how his shots were lined up. Hanzo picked up the game fast, which left him playing catch up at the end. He’d admit that in the final moments it was luck that pulled him through.  


“Now that was a close one” said McCree leaning back against the table. “You’re much better than your brother than when he first played.”  


Hanzo gave a curt nod. “It reminds me of the days of our little competitions brother.”  


McCree and Genji were both taken aback by the friendly reference. Jesse couldn't think of a single time either brother had mentioned anything about their childhood. In fact, he was pretty sure it was the longest sentence he'd heard from the older Shimada. He assumed the sudden emotional opening had something to do with the stack of empty glasses behind Hanzo.  


“Perhaps we could play a game we enjoyed in our adolescence.” McCree could swear he saw a grin curling up at the corner of Hanzo’s lips.  


The archer lead the trio back over to the bar and ordered a bottle Jesse had never heard of. The bartender placed three glasses and a bottle of clear, almost milky alcohol in front of them. Hanzo poured each of them a shot as he explained:  


“It is a game of stamina and of strength.” He and Genji raised their glasses and exclaimed “Kanpai!” before drinking the shot.  


Following suite, McCree drained his glass and mimicked the salute as best he could. Genji chuckled at his pronunciation as he poured another glass for each of them. Jesse was familiar with this type of game, though he didn’t remember most of them.  


They each took their shot and again, cheering in unison.  


“Your Japanese flows like gravel in the ears.”  


“Haha, yeah. Genji’s mentioned that a couple times. Of the many things my mouth is good at, speaking Japanese ain’t one of them,” Jesse drawled, thinking of a few things he'd rather be doing with his mouth at the moment.  


Hanzo chuckled a soft bark and took another drink. His face was softer with a smile.  


“So ya’ll used to play this game as kids?”  


“Yeah you know how it is when you’re a teenager,” said Genji. “Have to rebel a little bit.”  


Another shot.  


“I still remember the first time,” said Hanzo. “You had stolen a bottle of sake from father.”  


“And you reprimanded me.”  


Another shot.  


“Yes, yes I did, but curiosity got the better of me.”  


“You gagged on the first sip.”  


“As did you.”  


Another shot.  


The brothers laughed together for the first time McCree had seen since they'd been together at Overwatch. Hanzo’s eyes lit up in a way that made his heart flutter.  


“I’m afraid though brother, that McCree has a much better first drink story.”  


“Oh is that so?” said Hanzo turning to McCree who had to gather himself from his admiring slouch on the counter.  


“Ah well, it ain’t nothin much,” he smirked straightening his hat.  


“Come on McCree,” said Genji. “You know it’s a good story.”  


“I am intrigued,” said Hanzo.  


“Well if you insist,” he grinned leaning in closer to Hanzo and taking another shot. “It was after one of my first jobs in with my old gang, all the guys went out to drink at a bar and I was feelin’ pretty high and mighty so I decided to go join them. They were buying me drinks all night in celebration, I had a little trouble with the first but after about five glasses they were going down pretty easy.”  


Another shot.  


“Now it's been rumored that I can be a bit of a smartass at times.”  


“Ha! Only at times,” laughed Genji.  


“And as hard as it is to believe I was even worse as a kid,” grinned Jesse. Hanzo was giving him his undivided attention and he could all but barely keep down his blush. “So after a few drinks I was ramblin’ off something wicked and stupid and I ended up pissin’ some guy off.”  


Another shot.  


“So I challenged him to a shoot off since I was a cocky drunk bastard. We stumbled our way outside and had a buddy set up some cans for us.”  


Another shot.  


“It was an easy spread, took only a few seconds to take down all the cans. So I decided to make it more interesting. I bet him his boots that I could shoot a can off the top of his head, now mind you I was tripping over my own feet at this point.”  


He chuckled and bumped into Hanzo a bit. It was an accident, sort of. He could feel the world get heavy and a little darker as he straightened himself up again and took another shot.  


“So leaning up against a barrel or a railing or perhaps a mate, I had to squint to see the can. It was fifty feet away and not an easy shot in the best of circumstances. So with my gun shakin’ I lined up my shot and -”  


It smelled like lavender. The pillow? Soft and silken, like the sheets that cocooned him. It smelled like something else too. A mix of cinnamon and pine. Jesse felt warmth against his chest and under his arm. He cracked open his eyes to find his face buried into a mess of dark hair. Hanzo shifted a bit under his arm as he stifled a small gasp.  


What the hell happened last night? There was the drinking game and he was pretty sure he’d told the hat can story, but he couldn’t remember much beyond that. A pang of pain behind his forehead. That answered a few questions of the nights events, but how did he end up with the older Shimada brother in his arms? The cuddling definitely wasn’t unpleasant though and he’d be as shy of the truth as a pig is of feathers if he said he hadn’t taken some interest to Hanzo preceding last night. A few times out on missions he’d caught himself staring, but he didn’t put much thought to it, chimed it up to admiring the man’s work.  


He spotted his clothes strewn out next to the bed and he could tell Hanzo was only in his briefs as well. Did they?  


Hanzo turned over to face McCree, mumbling a bit in his sleep. His hair was down from its usual ponytail and instead rested around his face. He looked peaceful. Jesse was taken aback when his eyes fluttered open, staring straight at him. The cowboy quickly pulled his arm off and tried to calm the rattling in his chest.  


“G’mornin.”  


Hanzo yawned softly. “I did not expect you to awake so early after the state you were in last night.”  


“Well it feels like I let the stampede under my hat one too many times, but otherwise I’m feelin’ fresh as a daisy.”  


“Ah. That sounds, good?”  


“Mhmm.”  


Hanzo rolled up to the side of the bed stretching as he sat up. Jesse took a moment to appreciate his muscles rolling up his back and into his shoulders as his dragons peeked over at him from the edge of his neck. He felt the burn back in his cheeks.  


“Would you like some tea?”  


“Hmm? Oh, yeah that would be just fine.”  


McCree rummaged through his pile of clothes to find his shirt as Hanzo clanged around in the kitchen. As he was pulling on the sleeves he walked out with two piping hot mugs of tea.  


“Ah, I would not put that on if I were you,” Hanzo said handing him a mug and walking over to his dresser. “Here you may have one of mine.” A black undershirt landed next to him on the bed.  


“Thank ya kindly,” he said pulling on the shirt, thankful to feel a bit less exposed. “Um if ya don’t mind me askin’, what exactly is wrong with my shirt?”  


“Well I would imagine it does not smell pleasant at this point.”  


“Ah, yes of course.” A small sip. The water was hot and burned the tip of his tongue, but just the smell of the tea was enough to help alleviate his headache. A combination of ginger and camomile began to clear the cloud of ache. “Uh, so, what exactly happened last night?”  


Hanzo raised an eyebrow.“You do not remember?”  


“Ahh, not really.”  


“Hm.” A laugh, or at least, McCree thought it was.“Well to what point do you remember?”  


“I recall tellin’ most of the story of the first time I drank.”  


“Ha. A most entertaining tale. Yes, we continued the game for a bit and exchanged a few more stories for a bit. Then you stumbled on over to the jukebox to play a song.”  


“Oh?”  


“Mhmm.” A smirk, it suited him. “I believe you chose a song by the name of ‘Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy.”  


Jesse choked on his drink. “Oh lord.”  


“Yes, by about the fifth time through you had quite the routine on top of the pool table. Everyone was singing along by the last one. Genji got a pretty good video of it. Are you okay?”  


“Just fine, just fine,” said McCree sucking at the new burn on his hand and making note to never go to that bar again. “So, uh, after the performance, what happened?”  


“Well Genji had to return home because of an early meditation with Zenyatta this morning, so we had a few more drinks and then you challenged me to a game of darts.”  


“Sounds like me.”  


“I was very impressed.”  


McCree puffed up a bit. “Were ya now?”  


“Yes, I have never seen someone miss the board on every single shot in a game before.”  


“Ah,” he said deflating again.  


“After you spilled a couple drinks on yourself I decided it was time we return to the base, you were mostly stumbling and trying to describe dog hair.”  


“Hair of the dog.”  


“Yes and for some reason vodka was good for the dogs hair. You insisted on walking me to my room for my safety.”  


“Heh,” chuckled Jesse into his mug. “Ah, pardon. Please continue.”  


“When I entered my room you asked for a glass of water and as I returned from the kitchen I found you half asleep and sprawled out on the bed.”  


Smooth. “Sorry ‘bout that.”  


“It was no bother,” he waved dismissively. “I had you finish the glass and helped you strip so the bed wouldn't stink of drink. I must admit the boots were a bit more trouble than I expected to get off.”  


Jesse couldn't help but shiver and blush a bit deeper at the thought of Hazo helping him undress. He wished he had a memory to play back later but his mind came up empty. “So ya got me down to my boxers and then what? Did we play truth or dare?”  


Another smirk, a pang in McCree’s heart. “No, we did as one would expect to follow.”  


“Of course.” As one would expect to follow? What the hell did that mean? As Jesse opened his mouth to elaborate on ‘expect to follow’, Hanzo interrupted him.  


“I don't mean to be rude, but I still smell like a bar and would like to take a shower.”  


“ ‘Course, didn't mean to impose,” said the cowboy pulling on his pants that reeked of alcohol and placing his hat to his head. “Probably should be doin’ about the same thing myself.”  


“Perhaps you should revisit the lyrics to that song you enjoy. You seemed to be missing a few last night.”  


“Heh, I'm not too surprised,” said Jesse making his way out the door, boots and shirt in hand. “I'll give your shirt a wash ‘n give it back, cross my heart. Well have a good rest of your day.”  


As McCree turned to face the hallway, shutting the door behind him, he was stopped by a quick “Wait.”  


He turned to find Hazo in the doorways, looking up to him. He'd never really registered how much shorter the archer was than him before. Hanzo looked as though he was scrutinizing him, trying to make a decision.  


“I, uh, yes?” Then in a flash, there was a peck on his cheek, but he could feel Hanzo’s breath linger by his ear.  


“I had a good time last night, cowboy.”  


As fast as he'd come up to him, Hanzo was back in his room, gave a curt wave, and shut the door in Jesse’s face. McCree paused for a few moments, feeling a deep blush take his entire body, trying to find regularity again in his heart beat before making his way down the hallway to his room, knees clacking. Genji greeted him in passing with a soft whistle of the chorus from Save a Horse and Jesse was able to manage a weak smile before quickly diving into his room closing the door behind him. He slid down to the floor running his hand through his hair under his hat trying to process his thoughts.  


“As one would expect to follow,” he mumbled to himself. “Now what the fuck is that supposed to mean?”


End file.
